


Dreams Are Forever

by whimsicality



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Angst, Clarke is Clarke, Complicated Relationships, Death, F/F, F/M, Family, Friendship, Ghosts, Humor, M/M, Multi, Mystery, Polyamory, Witch Raven, endgame is Clarke/Raven/Bellamy, magic won't save you from the SAT's, shifter Bellamy, teenagers being teenagers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-16
Updated: 2016-07-16
Packaged: 2018-07-24 09:57:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7503955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whimsicality/pseuds/whimsicality
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke is grieving for her father, angry at her mother and the world, and pretty sure she has a crush on both of her new best friends. Raven’s getting tired of her boyfriend’s charm, and wants to know why she keeps having weird dreams about her old imaginary friend. Bellamy just wants to pass his SAT’s, spend more time with his sister, and make sure all three of them get through highschool without killing anyone.</p><p>He’s going to get two out of three.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dreams Are Forever

**Author's Note:**

> Title is in reference to the quote: “Imagination has no age, and dreams are forever.”

**_Beast Friends_ **  
  


Raven slumped in the passenger seat of her sister’s car, frustration bubbling like excess carbon dioxide in her veins. She hated sounding like any other petulant teenager, but all she wanted to do was break things and yell about how unfair life was. “I don’t understand why dad even wanted partial custody. He lets you take me whenever you can, and he ignores me when I’m actually at his house.”

Bianca smiled, wry and more than a little bitter, and reached over to squeeze her hand. “Because he wanted to punish Rachel, and because he didn’t want everyone to think he was a shitty father.”

Raven did her best to grin instead of grimace and squeezed back. “Well sucks for him, cause he _is_ a shitty father, and Rachel is so much happier with Callie than she was with him.”

Her sister chuckled and let go of her hand, picking up Raven’s coffee and handing it to her. “Don’t remind me that our stepmother has a more successful love life than me.”

“I’m sure they could find someone to set you up with if you asked. In fact, I bet they’d be thrilled at the idea of forcing you into an actual social life,” Raven said, her dark eyes sparkling with mischief.

With all the maturity of her lofty twenty-four years, Bianca stuck her tongue out. “I have a wonderful social life, thank you. And I think asking them for help would actually be worse than wallowing in my singleness.”

Raven laughed and hitched the strap of her bag up onto her shoulder before opening the car door. She stepped onto the pavement and gave her sister a mocking wave. “See you on Friday. Try not to let your doom and gloom attitude get you fired before then.”

Bianca rolled her eyes. “I’m my own boss. And I promise not to fire myself.”

“Do you also promise not to fire me for impertinence,” Raven asked, grinning when her words earned a rare, full-bodied laugh from her sister. Despite her current frustrations and her own notorious intensity—and Bellamy could shove it because she wasn’t _grumpy_ —Raven relaxed and had fun on a far more regular basis than her serious sister. 

“I think you’re safe. Once you graduate though, we might have to put an attitude clause in your contract,” Bianca said with a wink after she stopped laughing, her voice rich with amusement.

Raven flipped her off and waved goodbye again before closing the car door. Her smile faded as she turned toward the imposing brick structure of the Denver Academy of Arts and Sciences, a prestigious private school her father had chosen. Glancing back over her shoulder, she watched her sister maneuver out the parking lot. Bianca’s piece of crap jetta stood out like a zombie at a pep rally in the parking lot full of shiny Mercedes and BMW’s. Raven grinned, then faced forward and took a deep breath. She assumed a forbidding expression and stepped off the sidewalk onto the large expanse of bright green grass, ignoring both the paved pathway and the stares and whispers that followed in her wake.

One year left and she’d have a shiny new diploma and no more legal obligation to spend any time with her shitty father and his passive aggressive attempts at meddling in her life. He’d already given up on Bianca, who hadn’t spoken to him since she turned eighteen. But meddling with Raven killed two birds with one stone, no pun intended. He got to assert his patriarchal dominance, and maintain his presence in his ex-wife’s life, like a pest infestation that just wouldn’t go away.

Raven sighed, shifting the strap of her bag. She should be grateful Rachel had been granted primary custody, given that there was no biological relationship between them. Her stepmom was awesome, and definitely far superior to any of her other limited custody options. Raven was incredibly glad she got to live with her, and Raven’s half-brother Myles, instead of being stuck with her dad full time.

Irritated with herself for letting him get to her, she pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and checked the messages. Bellamy hadn’t sent anything since the text informing her he’d been drafted into giving a tour and might not see her until class.

Which meant she had twenty-five minutes of nothing to do and no one to talk to. Oh joy.

~

Clarke had never been a new student before. She’d lived in Boston her whole life—she’d been born in the hospital where her mom worked, and lived six blocks away from it until four weeks ago. She’d shared a cradle with her best friend, walked the same neighbor’s dog since she was ten, and knew all the best places when she needed a lo mein fix.

And now here she was, in the land of mountains and marijuana, and she wasn’t even talking to the only person she knew in the whole state. It was kind of exciting, not knowing anything. She didn’t know any of these people, didn’t know the city, didn’t even know her own house yet.

She hated why they were here. But _being_ here, well, it might be good. Maybe even better than good.

“Miss Griffin?” Clarke looked up, doing her best to hide her grimace at being called Miss, and managed a smile when she saw it was the vice principal. “This is Bellamy Blake. He’s one of our student guides and he’s going to show you around, make sure you find everything okay.”

Bellamy got a real smile from her, and she wasn’t even a little bit ashamed to admit it was a reaction to how beautiful he was—brown skin littered with freckles, dark curls, and an ink stain on his chin she was pretty sure he was unaware of. “Hey,” he said, with an awkward little wave that turned her smile into a grin.

“Hey.”

The vice principal gave them both a perfunctory smile. “Well, I’ll let Mr. Blake take it from here. Do let me know if you need anything, Miss Griffin.”

Clarke nodded, turning a bright smile on the woman that vanished as soon as she’d walked into her office.

Bellamy chuckled and offered her his hand. “It’s Clarke, right?”

She nodded again, letting him pull her out of her chair before releasing his hand so she could reach down and swing on her backpack. “Is student guide a volunteer position, or a punishment?”

He grinned. “It’s supposed to be a reward. Students with good grades and no discipline problems.”

“So punishment,” Clarke said with a smirk and he laughed, nodding his agreement. “Well then, Mr. Model Student, what do I need to know to live up to your stellar example?”

“Are you sure you want to? Might be you doing this next semester,” he teased as he pushed open the double doors leading from the administrative offices to the rest of the main building. Students were milling through the halls, talking, laughing, pulling things out of their lockers. It could have been a Monday at her old school, except she didn’t recognize any of them and none of them knew her.

“I think I’m up for the challenge,” she told him, confident as she hadn’t been in months.

Bellamy grinned, and started pointing out the locations of classrooms, bathrooms, and the cafeteria. It might have been a punishment, but he made a good tour guide. Witty and informational. Clarke was wondering how to turn the tour guide/new student connection into an actual friendship when another student caught her eye.

“Who’s that?” she asked Bellamy, interrupting his spiel about which water fountains would give you a drink and which would ruin your shirt. She used her chin to gesture toward a beautiful latina girl at the other end of the hallway. The girl seemed to be walking in her own personal bubble as the other students either actively avoided her, treated her with the sort of attention usually only given to raw sewage, or watched her progress with avid curiosity.

The girl was gorgeous, and not wearing or doing anything that made her stand out from the crowd. It felt like something different than the clique and class struggles Clarke had seen at her old school.

“Why, that’s the wicked witch of the Academy. I’d avoid her if I were you, new girl, wouldn’t want to get cursed on your first day.” It wasn’t Bellamy, but a new voice, a vicious sort of drawl that made Clarke frown instinctively at the boy who’d stopped next to them.

“Fuck off, Murphy,” her guide said, not reacting at all to the leering tone in the other boy’s voice. He looked down at Clarke with an amused twist of his lips. “Murphy’s just bitter because Raven wouldn’t go out with him.”

“At least I haven’t been whipped into the friendzone,” Murphy snapped, his features distorted with anger.

Clarke wrinkled her nose in distaste, a dull surge of anger rising in her gut even though she didn’t know any of these people well enough to be invested in what was clearly an ongoing feud. Maybe her initial positive impression of the school, thanks largely to Bellamy and his snarky but thorough tour, had been too optimistic.

Bellamy’s dismissiveness disappeared into an expression of undeniably intimidating dislike, his dark eyes almost glowing. “It’s pieces of shit like you that created the myth of the friendzone, Murphy, just so you can pretend it’s not your fault when a girl sees through your bullshit.”

Before the red-faced and spluttering prick could find his tongue, Bellamy took Clarke’s arm and guided her down the busy hallway toward the girl whose presence had instigated the conversation. “Raven is my best friend,” Bellamy told her with a wry smile. “She’s a witch, and so is her sister.” He made a face. “A good chunk of the students here are future AAW members, so she gets a lot of shit.”

The girl in question looked up and flashed them a crooked smile as they reached her side. Clarke smiled back, already determined these two would be her friends as well, if they would have her.

“Hey, Bell. Having fun playing tour guide?” Raven asked, closing her locker and spinning the lock.

“Always. It wouldn’t do to let poor lambs like Clarke here experience the joys of ASS without being warned first,” Bellamy said with a sweeping arm wave toward the gorgeous, well-lit hallway they were standing in, earning a chuckle from both girls.

“ASS?” Clarke asked, glancing curiously between the two of them as unexpectedly genuine happiness kept her smiling for the longest she had in months.

“It’s not the most accurate of acronyms, but it expresses the sentiments of us malcontents fairly well,” Raven said with a dry smile as she hefted her messenger bag onto her shoulder.

Clarke returned her smile. The kids she was used to weren’t the type to mock authority. Even Wells, for all she loved him, wasn’t the kind of person to ever step out of line. Not that she had been either, but things changed, and so did people, and these two were already the best part of her month.

“So what brings you to our fair campus, Clarke?” Raven asked, her head tilting to the side as she raised an eyebrow in Clarke’s direction.

Clarke fought the tensing of her muscles, and the burning in the back of her throat. She could do this, and she could do it without crying or screaming. “My mom got offered a better job here.” It was true, more or less, and certainly easier to explain than the shitstorm of awful her new (potential) friends didn’t need and didn’t want to hear about.

Raven nodded and Bellamy grimaced. “The joys of being underage and having no control over your own life,” he muttered.

Clarke snorted, in complete agreement with the bitterness underlying his tone. There was a moment of silence, shared understanding with total strangers, and Bellamy smiled at her.

“So Clarke, the lucky girl, happens to have History of the Supernatural with us first period,” he said, gesturing toward another building visible through the large windows. “Might as well get on with the day.”

“You’ll like Anya, she’s a great teacher,” Raven said as they walked out the nearest doors and cut across the grass. Some part of Clarke that had been slowly freezing ever since she saw the closed casket at her father’s funeral began to thaw. The tour was over and they were still talking to her, she could only hope that was a good sign. Her life could use a few more of those.

Before she could respond to Raven’s statement, Bellamy laughed. “Not to mention your crush on her.”

Raven tapped a finger against her bottom lip and winked at them. “It’s those cheekbones. She could kill you with her cheekbones. And looks like she would, if you gave her an excuse.”

Clarke laughed and Bellamy opened the outside door to the classroom. “I’m not cleaning up your drool,” he warned in a near whisper as he led them into the classroom, and Clarke stifled another laugh. She looked up and felt her breath catch as she saw one of the most intimidatingly beautiful women she’d ever seen. Raven hadn’t been kidding about the cheekbones, and combined with the piercing eyes, Anya looked more like a warrior queen than a history teacher.

Raven caught her eye and smirked. “There’s a reason no one mouths off in this class, even the ignorant bigots who make up a good chunk of the student body.”

Bellamy nodded as he dropped his bag on a table, and Clarke hid a wince at the feelings stirred up by Raven’s words. She claimed the chair next to Raven and smiled at both of them. “Somehow I don’t think I’ll be missing my old school.”

They both grinned back at her and they all turned to face forward as Anya called roll. Now if only she could avoid her mother for the next year, ASS, and by transitive property Denver, could become one of her favorite places on Earth.

~

It was Wednesday, and Clarke had shown no signs of growing tired of his and Raven’s company. They certainly hadn’t grown tired of her, enjoying her sense of humor and her lack of obvious bigotry of any stripe.

The blonde scrunched her nose up at the bag of pork rinds he pulled out of his backpack and he smiled at her with lazy amusement as he set them down on the table next to his water. “I know it’s not caviar, princess, but they taste good.”

Clarke shook her head. “Those are both gross.”

Bellamy just laughed at her, but Raven nodded agreement while picking at her salad. “Bell likes all kinds of gross things. Like cottage cheese, and eggs sunny side up, and raw fish.”

Clarke grinned and Bellamy rolled his eyes. “Just because your extracurricular activities have ruined all things food for you, doesn’t mean the rest of us can’t enjoy a little variety.”

“Hey! I like food. I just don’t like meat. Or cottage cheese. And if you’d mixed as many potions as I have, you wouldn’t like eggs either,” Raven protested, her finger waving menacingly in his direction.

Their new friend frowned, a little wrinkle between her eyes, and Bellamy shook his head and directed a smile at her, hoping they hadn’t found the limits of her seeming easy acceptance. “You’d be surprised at how many magical concoctions call for eggs and other breakfast foods.”

Raven sniffed, biting loudly into a slice of crisp cucumber. “If you insist on denigrating my art, I would be happy to cook a special breakfast just for you.” Her smile was supremely vicious and Bellamy grinned at her as Clarke laughed at them.

“You two are ridiculous.”

Bellamy turned his grin on her, relieved, and Raven winked with a toss of her long hair. “I think you mean we’re fabulous.”

The other girl laughed, a warm sound Bellamy was already getting used to hearing, and raised an eyebrow at them. “So are you both on the science track?”

They both shook their heads, but Raven spoke first. “Nah. I want to go into engineering-”

“You mean blowing things up,” Bellamy interjected, smirking as Raven punched him in the shoulder before continuing without pause.

“And this loser wants to go into Politics. Which isn’t science no matter what they tack on the end of it.”

Clarke looked surprised, but smiled at him before he could work up the energy to be offended. “What do you want to do with politics?”

Bellamy took a drink of water to give himself a second, and shrugged with studied casualness. “Get congress to do their jobs and protect all citizens, including witches and shifters and other members of the supernatural community who are less popular, and well funded, than vampires.” He had a brief impulse to tell her channeling his anger into political matters helped him go to school and be around asshole human teenagers without ripping their throats out, but resisted. No need to chase off the first friend he and Raven had made here besides each other.

There was a brief pause and Clarke gave him an absolutely brilliant smile. Some part of Bellamy he had refused to even acknowledge was tense, relaxed at her clear lack of horror or disgust. “That’s amazing, Bellamy.”

Bellamy resisted the ridiculous urge to flush with embarrassment and smirked instead, before turning the conversation away from himself. “What about you?”

Clarke’s smile faded into something more brittle and strained. “I’m on the life sciences track. Med school ahoy.”

Raven made approving noises and high fived her for being a fellow science nerd. Bellamy wondered about the way Clarke’s scent shifted when she answered, tainted with anger and grief. He decided to ignore it. It wasn’t like he and Raven had shared their life stories, and half a week of knowing someone was a little too soon to be asking about what personal tragedy was making them smell weird.

Raven reached into her bag and pulled out a silver foil package of piroulines, offering them to Clarke and Bellamy. “Cookie? I stole them from the party pantry.”

“You have a party pantry?” Clarke asked with clear amusement as she took one of the rolled wafers, and Raven nodded with an exasperated eye roll.

“My father is a firm believer in being a pretentious shit. The kind of person who likes being called a connoisseur or a foodie, but makes his housekeeper pick out all the food.”

“And you are a firm believer in making him look like an idiot whenever he makes the mistake of having you at his dinner parties,” Bellamy said, snagging the bag of cookies out of her hand. “You’re like a classic Disney movie, Parent Trap or something.”

“I am _not_ Disney, Bell, you take that back,” Raven practically growled and Bellamy laughed, raising his arms defensively as she pelted him with her lettuce.

“There’s definitely not enough singing involved in your life to be Disney,” Clarke said, stealing some of Raven’s watermelon while watching them both with a wide grin. “For which I am eternally grateful. What else is in the party pantry?”

“Weird cheeses that don’t need to be refrigerated, more fancy cookies, awful crackers, jams from like, Sweden,” Bellamy listed off, collecting the lettuce Raven had thrown at him into a little pile as she sulked over the bag of piroulines she’d successfully stolen back from him. “Raven and I have spent a lot of time in that pantry. I have eaten a lot of strange foods.”

“It’s the real reason he loves me, access to expensive, gross foods, not my brilliant mind or generous spirit,” Raven said with faux solemnity and a sad head shake. “Using me for my party pantry and my free mechanic services.” Bellamy snorted as Raven widened her eyes to almost comic proportions. “You’ll be a better friend, right, Clarke?”

Clarke’s lips twitched as she nodded. “Yes, Raven, I promise. I won’t love you for your party pantry.” Raven grinned and shot a triumphant smirk in Bellamy’s direction. Clarke cleared her throat, her eyes twinkling with obvious mischief. “Or your ability to make your eyes Disney cartoon size.”

Raven gasped in feigned betrayal and Bellamy stole the cookies back while she was distracted. Clarke laughed, her hands over her mouth in a futile attempt to hold in her giggles.

A rude voice interrupted their moment of camaraderie and Bellamy scowled at the obnoxious human boy who’d wandered over to their table, resisting the urge to throw something a lot heavier than lettuce at his head.

“I see you didn’t take my advice, new girl. Ended up at the creep table,” Murphy said, an ugly sneer on his face as he looked Clarke up and down before glancing at Raven. “All the pretty ones end up being freaks.”

Bellamy swallowed a snarl as Raven blew Murphy a kiss with her middle finger. “And all the dipshits end up stupid bigots like you, Murph. Go back to your corner and get out of my face—wouldn’t want our freakishness to contaminate you.” Her voice was light and breezy, but her eyes were ice cold and blatantly threatening.

Murphy glared, but left without another word, obviously not up for an uglier confrontation.

Bellamy grimaced, exchanging a bitterly amused glance with his best friend. Murphy was more afraid of having his dick cursed off than of being contaminated by Raven, or he would have never asked her out to begin with. Too bad Raven wasn’t stupid enough to get herself in trouble with the law by working a little magical mischief. His terror would smell delicious.

“So, what’s the weirdest thing you ever ate out of the party pantry?” Clarke asked into the awkward silence, a teasing smile on her face in a clear attempt to mitigate the tension that had dampened their previous cheer.

Bellamy managed to grin at her, surprised at how glad he was she’d moved to Denver, and bumped Raven’s knee with his own under the table. “Snail caviar. Her dad was pissed. Apparently that crap is like $100 an ounce. At this point we’re convinced his housekeeper is trolling him.”

Clarke laughed, her nose wrinkling in disgust, and Raven left their knees pressed together. Yeah, Clarke was a good addition to their school. Now if only they could keep themselves from murdering any of their classmates, it might just be a good year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title of the chapter was totally stolen from a Monster High episode. You can expect that to happen again.
> 
> Also, in case you can't wait to find out in story, AAW stands for Americans Against Witchcraft.


End file.
